Getting to know you
by I'mDatingTheReceptionist
Summary: If this isn't a dream, then...what is it? And why, out of everyone, did he wake as his boss...? M/B. [Cancelled]
1. Chapter 1

**I'm baaaack!**

 **So yes, another RS story. New plot and new format**

 **And it's a BodySwap Au. Got inspired by the film 'Your Name' this time. Check it out if you haven't lol; it's super beautiful and has a gorgeous plot c:**

 **Anyway, onto the fic-!**

 **(Also, lemme know if the format is a little /: for you guys. I'm just trying it out for now, but if it's not your thing, then hmu in my inbox.)**

* * *

If it hadn't been for the bathroom mirror that morning, Mordecai would have had no idea he was in the wrong body.

/

He wakes to an alarm.

While that should be red flag number 1, the jay's too busy blinking against the harsh morning light to wonder on that for even a second. So, as if on instinct, like he hits the snooze button every morning, his fingers outstretch and find it with ease, and he slowly sits up as he brushes the sleep from his eyes.

Cover's pulled back and two long, silver legs snake their way down to the (white) carpet, where small feet pad to the kitchen. He's still rubbing his eyes. Why does he feel so exhausted? Like he ran a damn marathon in the middle of his sleep?

 _And Christ, why are his joints so sore?_

He goes to the cupboards, hand instinctively reaching up for a box of cereal that…isn't there…? Wait, did he walk down some stairs a few moments ago…?

He honestly doesn't remember.

A heavy sigh, one he strangely enough feels accustomed to, comes up from somewhere buried inside him and he turns to blink wearily at a coffee maker sat in the corner of the bench. Just the sight of it sparks some sort of 'right-ness' in him and he frowns when he feels his feet cross over to it.

One hand grabs the empty pot, the other goes for the instant coffee packet kept beside the jug, which he also takes and puts under the tap. The whole coffee making routine is like clockwork. It comes so naturally to him; run the water for _this_ long, put _these_ many teaspoons of granules in - _oh apparently I don't like sugar - wait, I do_ : one.

He usually likes two.

But when would he _ever_ have his coffee that sweet?

Mordecai stops.

The mere thought of that disgusts him.

 _….Why?_

His brain doesn't let him linger on it for even a moment longer, and in minutes, he's found himself finishing a hot cup of coffee as he puts a slice of bread into the toaster.

A thick spread of peanut butter later and he's heading back into his bedroom. It's so familiar; the bed, the closet, the damn cat fur on his pillow - wait.

 _When did he get a cat…? And….why would he get a cat?_

For a second time, he shrugs the questions away and finishes off his breakfast before leaning over to make an attempt at fixing his covers. Emphasis put on attempt.

His cat keeps winding around his arms.

She's a tuxedo cat with a pink nose, and her purring makes him feel all gooey inside. Fingers abandon the blanket to run through her soft fur, and she tilts her head up into his palm; the simple gesture causes an instant calm to wash over him, and without meaning to, his body…relaxes.

 _When had he been tense? He'd just been making himself some food….?!_

He needs to get ready.

A sympathetic smile and a quiet 'sorry Star' falls from his lips. But unlike every other motion, this one doesn't come with a dashed thought; instead an unsettled feeling creeps up his spine.

Like he's just been thrown in an ice bath.

No. No something is _definitely_ wrong.

It's harder to ignore this inkling, but he still regardless makes his way down the hall to the bathroom.

He's beginning to notice things the more he walks; _his walls are white, there's carpet beneath his feet…he has a black and white feline in his bedroom….?!_

Picture frames catch his eye. He stops just next to the bathroom door and plucks one down that captures two old people, one male, one female, who bear a striking resemblance to someone he knows very well, but his mind chooses this exact moment to kick into panic mode.

 _Who are these people…? And…where am I - Who's place is this…?!_

He carefully hangs it back up then steps on the tiled floor of the bathroom. The mirror is a welcome comfort and he almost throws himself at the sink. Two hands grip each edge of the porcelain and he has to take a few deep breaths before facing his reflection; his heart is _racing_.

He's suddenly _terrified_.

His eyes are screwed shut as he raises his head up to the glass. He doesn't want to know just yet.

Another breath in. He wants to wait - he _needs_ to wait - for his fear to subside. But something inside him says it won't, and besides.

 _Isn't he going to be late for work?_

His eyes fly open.

And his knees give out beneath him.

Had he not had a white knuckled hold on the sink, he'd have fallen to the floor, but it's just that that's holding him up right. He tries for another breath, a larger one this time. It doesn't come. The wind's been knocked out of him, he realises.

He no longer worries being late for work.

The person staring back at him would probably scold him for that.

With the fingers of his left hand still wrapped around the sink, he chances the ones on his right to slowly - _slowly_ \- run down his head. It _feels_ real.

He blinks at his reflection. It blinks back.

The panic is beginning to let up and he takes this opportunity to lean forward, fingers tugging at each area of his face. He feels slightly braver, and so releases the sink to take a step back and check out his body. A pull there, a pinch here, and another run over of his chest with his….small, grey hands, and he's finally settled in a curious wonder.

If this isn't a dream, then…

What is it?

And why, out of everyone, did he wake as his boss?


	2. Chapter 2

It's exactly 7:45am when he leaves the apartment.

He'd woken at 6:30.

The revelation he had switched bodies with Benson overnight took a lot longer to process than necessary; a mild panic attack had been hurled at him as he had been fixing breakfast for Star.

He had only then realised the feline hadn't noticed anything off about her owner; though if she had, she didn't seem to care beyond pawing at her dish for more tinned salmon.

As he walks to the front door, a hand swipes the keys from a small hook in the kitchen, and he's momentarily shaken at how easily that movement had come.

He has to squash that feeling down.

The keys tighten in his palm. His nails sink into the skin - another check to see if he's real or this's simply a nightmare. Taking a glance down, he winces at the 5 red marks and shudders. Nope. Still awake.

A robot keychain finds it's way between his thumb and forefinger, and that seems to provide him some comfort. Though he doesn't know why.

 _Oh, right. He's not himself today._

 _Must have something to do with Benson._

After locking the front door behind himself, he heads down to the elevator at the end of the hall. He leans against one of the sides. The robot smiles up at him. Mordecai stares ahead and waits.

What the heck is going on?

He sees movement from the corner of his eye and he looks to it without turning his head. Blonde hair framing a soft face. A compact mirror is held to her eyes.

He seems to know this person.

Though he doesn't seem to want to engage in conversation with her. And that…that feels _normal._

In fact, he doesn't want to talk with _anyone_.

Right as he turns his gaze back to the elevators floor countdown, she catches him staring and a grin pulls at her pink lips. She snaps the mirror closed, pockets it, and his body goes rigid as she speaks to him.

"Benson-! I haven't seen you in awhile, how are you?"

His heart speeds up. Her voice.

He's heard it once before.

 _Audrey._

Mordecai presses himself to the metal as if another door will open up beside him, and doesn't respond for a good 30 seconds. Surely she should take a hint from his body language. He looks over again.

Nope. She's still waiting.

An embarrassed heat floods him as he avoids her eyes. His cheeks are burning and his hands are clammy.

He knows this feeling all too well.

 _Benson likes her. A lot._

His gaze hardens on the floors countdown. _5, 4, 3…_

"I'm…doing well."

 _Oh no._

She leans away. Her smile falters.

"Oh, that's…that's good."

He glances at her and tries his own, but all he can wonder is if she had picked up on his voice.

It's his own. Not Bensons.

No. She's facing away from him. The conversation's ended.

He ignores the guilt now settling inside himself.

Right as the doors open, he steps out and quickens his pace, hurrying outside to his car. Getting the keys out, he scrambles inside the drivers seat. Again, his movements are on autopilot and he lets them be.

He allows himself to relax and think once he's out on the road.

So he's established this isn't in his head. He really _is_ inhabiting his boss' body. Right now, he's driving _his_ car to work.

His hand reaches towards the radio, and he turns the dial clockwise.

It increases the volume of a Beatles song.

His first instinct is to switch it off, but something inside him tells him this is normal too.

 _God, Benson listens to the Beatles….?_

He almost wants to laugh. Almost. It's the ever present panic sitting in his chest that stops him. He takes it slow through the park gates (as if he hadn't already been driving an agonising 20km this entire time) and almost creeps up the driveway, eyes fixed on the parks house looming in front of him. As he gets closer, he can see everyone is seated on the porch steps.

He expertly parks the car outside the garage and cuts the engine. Pocketing the keys, he jumps out and almost races to the stairs.

Skips grunts, "You're late."

Mordecai puts a hand on the bannister and makes for the door, "I know, I…"

But a clipboard is thrusted towards him and he looks up. Words fall in his throat as his eyes lock with… _himself_ …?

Rigby is watching him strangely. They all are, he realises.

"Here. Save you the trip."

Wait… _Benson…?_

He numbly takes it. His boss…but also _not_ ….is scowling at him and he gulps, making extra sure not to fall backwards as he steps down onto the dirt.

"Th..Thanks."

He avoids Bensons…or rather _his_ …livid glare as he fumbles for the pen at the top of the board. After clicking it open, he goes down the list of jobs, then looks back up at everyone.

"Uh, can I…can I see Bens- _Mordecai_ in my office, please?"

Bensons - _not his. He has to remember that -_ eyes harden, "Shouldn't you be giving out the chores first?"

"Oh, uh…yeah…right."

His hand is shaking as he presses it to paper, and he reads out each name along with their given chore. When he gets to Rigby, he makes the conscious effort to speak his name loudly in the hope that he picks up on the utter oddball-ness of the situation. As if Benson burning a hole through his forehead isn't enough.

"I want to see you, too."

Rigbys eyes go bigger. Something passes over his face.

Recognition…?

"…Okay."

Along with Bensons fiery gaze, Mordecai sees Skips is lasering in on him too. Though, for entirely different reasons. They look at one another for a moment until Skips looks away, and he clears his throat.

"Right, well…um…go….go do your chores…"

It comes out so _feebly_ that for a moment, nobody moves. That is until Benson stands, pulling Rigby by the arm, and goes straight to the door. The slam cuts through the silence and everyone gradually stands to move off to their given jobs. As they all pass him, he takes note of how no one looks his way. Or at least…tries _not_ to.

He shakes the unsettled feeling from his shoulders as Skips stops in front of him. The yetis presence takes him by surprise; he thought everyone had left. He lowers the clipboard to his side, pen back in place.

Skips looks at him evenly, "Keep me updated on your meeting."

He nods a bit too quickly and Skips grunts again. Though he whirls around when Skips is only a foot away from him, "Hey, uh…Skips…?

No response. He takes this as his cue to continue. "Uh…do you know what's going on with…Mordecai…? He's not…acting like himself."

Skips' eyes narrow. He voices a guttural 'hm' then opens his mouth, "Actually, I was hoping you might have an idea."

An icy feeling goes down his back, "I - really…?

He nods then skips off. Mordecai stands there a few seconds more, until the coldness recedes and he turns back to the house. He walks slowly to the steps; his heart is racing again.

He can't stop thinking on Skips' words. Put that with Bensons death stare as well as what could be Rigbys possible realisation and he's beginning to wonder if he really _is_ living a nightmare.

Whatever's going on, he hopes he wakes up soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the extremely short chapter-! Next one will be longer, I swear lol**

* * *

Voices are coming from the office. Two very angry voices.

"… _I'm telling you, man. Me and Mordecai had nothing to do with this!"_

" _You really expect me to believe that?"_

" _Yes! Why do you always blame us?"_

" _Maybe because whenever something goes wrong here, most of the time you two are the culprits!"_

" _You know, if we were going to do something as stupid as bodyswap you guys, we would've at least given you Mordecai's personality! At least he isn't always on my case all the time!"_

 _ **Bodyswap…**_

He twists the doorknob before it can go any further. The conversation abruptly halts.

Benson is leaning against the desk, eyes to the carpet and arms folded across his chest. Rigby is standing opposite, hands thrown out with his mouth still open. The air is charged with tension and Mordecai gets a feeling of intrusion as he glances between the two. Rigbys face lights up when he sees him.

Mordecai realises with some amusement that this is probably the first time he's been happy to see their boss…figuratively speaking…and he bites back a chuckle.

Now is not the time.

He can see Benson is being careful not to look his way as he shuts the door. It's only when he drops the clipboard on the desk - his boss strangely flinches at that - does someone finally speak. That someone being Rigby.

"Benson's being such a hard-ass, man. He threw a pillow at me this morning. A pillow! _And_ he confiscated my game!"

Mordecai's brow raises, "You're taking this well."

"Hey, I'm not the one in someone elses body."

"How the hell did this happen?" Benson mutters. He's pinching the bridge of his nose and his eyes are now shut. Rigby rounds on him.

"Oh, so now you're not blaming me anymore?

Bensons eyes snap open and he scowls at his co-worker. His gaze travels reluctantly to the jay.

He's not angry with him anymore, he realises. Almost…almost _sad_.

"I can't believe I really look like that."

Mordecai ignores the comment as he leans against the door, "Did you guys see Skips?"

Rigby answers after a beat, "We thought about it, but we wanted to wait for you to get here."

Benson doesn't offer anything up. From how he's holding himself, Mordecai quietly guesses he wants nothing to do with this ordeal and so he removes him from the conversation. A piece of him is too scared to look at his boss; for a second, his comment made him stop questioning whether or not he's still asleep. And he doesn't want to feel that right now.

"Why, do you think we should?"

"…I don't know. I mean, we always do in these situations."

"Well, yeah, because he has all the answers."

Mordecai rubs his neck, "I know, but _bodyswapping_? Isn't that, like, something out of movies?"

Rigby scoffs, "Hello, he's an immortal being? I bet Skips has seen way weirder stuff than this."

"I doubt people swapped bodies all the time, Rigby."

"Well, it could've _happened_."

A long silence passes between the two. All eyes are to the floor. Rigby goes to the couch to think.

"Did you feed Star?"

Mordecai shares a glance with the raccoon who has a nail between his teeth, before looking funnily at Benson. The question seems to hold more weight than how it had been said. His throat has run suddenly dry.

"Y..Yeah, I did."

Benson nods slightly but says nothing more. Mordecai watches him closely, then steps aside as he walks up to open the door. He heads out and Rigby stands.

"What're you doing?"

Their boss' voice carries into the room, "Going to see Skips."

The duo share another look, but file out. Benson leading the way, the 3 go to Skips' place. Not a word is said between them and while Mordecai would be thankful for the quiet (really, he's tired of their bickering no matter the subject matter), it's not exactly a welcome one this time.

Bensons behaviour is what grabs him. It's so…not him; though he doesn't exactly know _how_ he would react in such a scenario.

Not like this that was for sure.


	4. Chapter 4

"How did it go?"

One by one, they step inside. Rigby closes the door then takes his place beside Benson, who's fixed his eyes on the many potions Skips has lined up on a high shelf. Something seems to be turning in his head.

The question only stumps 2/3 of them.

Mordecai holds his arm, "We…decided to see you."

Skips hums. As he speaks, he glances between his boss and co-worker.

"You think I have an answer for you two bodyswapping last night?"

"…We hoped you did."

"You generally do."

On instinct, he sends a swift punch into Rigby's right arm, and to all their astonishment, it brings immediate tears to his eyes. Skips sees Bensons gaze cut to Mordecai in quiet amazement but he's quick to defend himself as he holds both hands to his face.

"Rigby! Oh geez, dude, I'm- _sorry_ , I didn't…"

Rigby rubs at the red mark on his fur and looks up at him. A blatantly stunned expression casts over his face, "Where did you learn to hit like that?"

"I - " Mordecai glances at his fist. He slowly uncurls his fingers and stares at them. A new thought begins to prod at the back of his mind, "It's how I always hit you…"

His eyes go up to Benson who looks sharply away and to the ground. His cheeks start to redden but before the jay can speak up, Skips clears his throat. Everyone turns their attention his way.

"I've seen a few cases in my time. But they were so rare and had an explanation behind them; lightning strike the previous night or an experiment gone wrong. Usually, they would switch back the next morning. People would mess with all sorts of things to try to become each other. It even became a game for a short while. But no one knew why it happened."

"So you're saying we'll just go back to normal tomorrow?"

Skips is quiet for an abnormally long time.

Benson puts a hand to his forehead, "Don't tell me we're stuck like this."

The duo glance wordlessly at each other. When Skips says nothing, Mordecai presses forward.

"You can fix this…right, Skips?" He feels a disgruntled sigh pass his lips."Don't you have some…potion to - "

"Usually."

All heads go to Benson. His arms are folded and his eyes sweep the ground. "You _said_ usually."

….

It all seems to click for them at the same time.

Not one of them speak. A crestfallen silence comes upon the 3.

"Skips?"

Skips' lips pull into a thin line, "…There might be another possibility."

"Of changing back?"

"Of _why_ you swapped bodies in the first place. That too."

Another stretch of silence later and Benson throws a hand out.

" _Well_?"

Skips' gaze goes from his employer to the duo, who are waiting patiently for a response. He's about to say his name again until Skips' mouth opens.

"Something - or _someone_ \- wants you to learn from each other."

His boss blanches.

Mordecai's brows knit together as Skips' words spin in his head.

Rigby points at Benson, mouth open in absolute delight, "Ha! I told you we had nothing to do with this!"

He's suddenly rendered mute by the utter death glare Benson is giving him and his hand lowers to his side. Further down the line, Mordecai is staring at Skips in utter bewilderment. It's all he can concentrate on right now.

Rigby pouts in silent fury but stays quiet.

"Learn what?"

Skips shrugs, "I don't know. Guess you'll figure that out as time goes on."

"What do you mean by that?" Benson asks. He watches Skips get up to retrieve a book from his nightstand. "How long are we going to stay like this?"

He sits back down on his bed and starts flipping through it, not looking at Benson as he mutters his response, "Could be a few days, a week…a month - "

"A _month_ -?

"What's the book for?"

Mordecai goes to stand beside him and Benson soon follows. Rigby silently trails behind. They all peer over his shoulders, eyes watching him go through each page.

"I used to write down everyones reasons for bodyswapping."

"Woah, so you were, like, 'the guy'?"

He smiles, "No. Just an interested bystander." It falters as he carries on. "I thought I could figure out why this kept happening. But all that they had in common were being hit by lightning or messing with certain concoctions. And neither of you…"

His voice trails off as he runs a finger down a couple of scribbled paragraphs. Benson frowns.

"I thought you said people would try to test this out."

"It never worked. There were only two fail safe ways to switch bodies with the other person. Until now it seems."

Benson looks nervously over at Mordecai, but the jay is now heavily invested in the book. A look of admiration paints his face.

"Wow, Skips, this is really cool stuff."

Skips chuckles, "Yip."

Benson puts a hand on his shoulder and leans forward, "Were there any patterns in age? Gender? Home life?"

He shakes his head, "Strangely enough, no. Just those scenarios. It's not much to go on, I know. Which is why it's going to be a lot harder figuring out your situation." To Mordecai's visible disappointment, he closes the book and stands to put it back.

As he skips back, he smiles grimly, "I'll do some more research on this. In the meantime, you two need to adapt to each others lives." He rests his gaze on Benson who still looks apprehensive.

"What if we can't change back?"

Mordecai shrugs one shoulder, "Then…we'll have to adapt like Skips said."

For the first time in minutes, Rigby speaks up, "See, Benson? You can already learn something from him."

Benson huffs in annoyance as Mordecai smiles at his co-worker, "Thanks, Skips."

"No problem, fellas. Good luck."

He opens the door and they all walk out, right as Mordecai punches Rigby in the arm a 3rd time…though not as hard as the previous 2. Benson snorts into his hand.

When they get to the house, Rigby makes to follow them up the porch, but he's stopped by Benson. Mordecai is already at the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Going inside to play video games? Mordecai didn't give me any chores to do."

He lifts a brow to him and gestures for Mordecai to handle this. Rigby waits as he puts a hand to his chin to think.

"Alright, well…you can…uh…maybe…you caaaan…"

Benson rolls his eyes. He gently pushes Mordecai out the way and does what he does best. Though Rigby has to stifle a laugh in seeing what appears to be his best friend yelling at him to work. Especially in such a fierce way.

Because he knows Mordecai would never act like this.

Mordecai's cheeks are gradually warming in shame as he watches himself-really, his boss-fire off at their co-worker. He stands awkwardly off to the side, not missing Rigby do a mock salute and race away from them to go do who-knows-what Benson had just hollered in his face.

"There. That's how you do it."

Mordecai grabs the doors handle, "Thanks, Benson." He pulls it and his boss goes inside.

He catches a brief smile tug at his lips before it dissolves immediately.

"Now to teach you everything else."


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy Valentines Day-!**

 **Now, on to the chapter.**

* * *

They've been at this for a good two hours now.

Every task they have had to do has taken double the amount of time, due to Bensons extreme pickiness on things being exactly right. And it's slowly getting on Mordecai's nerves.

But he has to grit his teeth and deal with it.

He _is_ in Bensons body, after all. Don't want the mask slipping anytime soon.

Currently they are in the office. Benson is explaining what to do if Maellard phones, but Mordecai is distracted by what's in the drawers. His boss is stood at the front of the desk with his hands out to emphasise his words while Mordecai is sat in the chair, feet propped on the plastic at the bottom as he toys with a paperclip.

It's taking everything in him _not_ to do a spin.

Benson comes around to stand next to him and point at the phone on the counter, "…"And if he says this, I want you to - Mordecai-!"

His employee looks up. The paperclip drops on the desk, "Huh?"

"I was _saying_ \- "

He immediately goes back to fiddling with it, which sparks some anger inside him.

"Mordecai!"

Another look up, just as he's flicked it onto the floor. Benson bends down to pick it up. A sheepish smile quickly comes across Mordecai's lips as his boss holds the clip between his thumb and forefinger. When he speaks, his tone is heavy with exasperation.

And it isn't even noon yet.

"Look. I don't know how long we have to stay as each-other. Could be a few days, a week - "

"A month."

Benson's jaw stiffens, "…. _Whatever_ it may be, we still have to abide by Skips' rule. And that means listening to what I'm telling you."

He uses this moment to push himself back into the chair and put his hands on the plastic arm rests, "But your job is so easy." He starts to spin from side to side. "You don't need to teach me anything, Benson. I've got this."

"Oh, really? You've never dealt with Mr. Maellard, have you?"

He smiles; properly this time and stops so he's facing him. "Doesn't he only act that way with you?"

"Not if you two aren't making my life a living hell. And not if you catch him on a good day."

"I thought every day was a bad day for him."

Benson puts the clip back on the desk then folds his arms, "Not necessarily. On the rare occasions, he can be…how do I put this…less of an ass than usual. But as I said, they are rare."

"You must really cherish them, then."

"Oh, yeah." He shrugs. "But I always knew he was going to go back to himself the next meeting we have, so I stopped waiting for those days."

"…Oh."

"That's why it's important to know how to talk to him. Especially on the phone."

Mordecai's heart sinks a little.

 _Oh, yeah. They're still technically working._

As he continues, he walks back around the desk, "One thing you have to remember is that Maellard is always right. There are times when you'll want to argue with him - trust me, I've been there before - but no matter what he says, you agree with him."

 _Maybe…it wouldn't hurt to try._

"What happens if you don't?"

"Y - "

There's a pause.

Benson eyes him warily, but Mordecai only leans up in the chair. He's waiting patiently for…what seems to be a genuine answer. His boss frowns.

"…You get yelled at…"

He shakes it off to carry on, "I mean…you've seen how he is with me. Then again, I've only spoken up a few times - that's another thing; don't interrupt him when he's talking."

Mordecai's brow raises, "And if you do?"

He stops.

 _What is he doing…?_

"The…same applies…." His eyes narrow. Nothing's given away on his face.

Hmm.

He slowly looks away. It takes him a moment to jump back into it, "He isn't exactly an easy man to get along with. Just…don't try to patronise him. He's all about business."

There's a beat. He glances over.

Mordecai is reaching forward for the paperclip.

Alright, then.

He goes to a calendar on the wall. The sunlight just brushes a date marked in red texta which Benson points to, "Now. There's a park inspection next Tuesday. That gives you a week to sort this place out." He turns to him. "Maellard doesn't have a set time on when he arrives, but it's generally the early morning. He's usually in a bad mood, so don't act friendly with him; he hates that."

Mordecai looks up. The clip is bent backwards, "How…"

"Just follow him and only speak when you're spoken to."

He nods as he goes back to the clip. Benson waits. As expected, after a few seconds of shaping it into a figure 8, he asks a 3rd unnecessary question, "What if you - "

"He yells at you - what are you doing…?"

Mordecai puts the clip by his side, "Sorry, Benson. I'm listening."

"No, you…you keep…asking me things that you…already know the answers to - _why are you doing that_ …?"

"I just…want to know more about your job."

It's a weak reason. And Benson sees right through it. Or he at least believes he does.

He scoffs as he walks around the desk again, "I would expect that lie from Rigby."

Mordecai stares at him, "I'm not lying-!"

"Right. Because learning about how not to get yelled at by Mr Maellard all the time is _so_ interesting."

He puts his gaze to the floor. Bensons' sigh is drawn out.

"Look. If you're bored, we can just…"

"I'm not…" He drops the paperclip on the desk and slowly looks back at him, "We've been doing this for hours and we haven't even had a break yet. I'm exhausted, Benson."

"Skips said - "

"I _know_ …what Skips said. But that doesn't mean we have to work on this non stop." Benson glances away, "I promise I'm not going to screw this up."

"…I know you won't." He moves to sit in the chair across from him. They look at one another. "Listen. I'm aware that my teaching methods aren't the best. I've just had this job for so long, and I can't afford anymore mistakes. That includes being 5 minutes late."

A coil of guilt settles in Mordecai's chest. It leaves however when Benson smiles sadly at him.

"I've only told this to Skips, but…considering we're now in each-others bodies, I might as well tell you." He takes a breath and his eyes shine slightly with tears. "Maellard has been threatening to replace me if I can't keep the park up to standard."

That explains his behaviour all morning...

"Needless to say, I've been pretty stressed this past month and…and now with what's happened…" His voice trails off. He sniffs as his eyes search the jay. "…So it's really important that you listen to me and do exactly what I tell you. Okay?"

"…Okay."

Bensons' shoulders slump, "Alright." He wipes the tears on his cheeks as he gradually stands and steps slightly away, "You know, in a way, I'm relieved it was you I swapped bodies with."

"Really?"

"Mm."

"Why's that?"

He grabs the clip off the desk to toss into a nearby bin, "Because I know I can trust you to keep your word."

Mordecai smiles, "What about Skips?"

"Him too. But it's about time you got a promotion."

He pushes himself off the chair and the two walk to the stairs, Benson in front. When they get about halfway, Mordecai stops and juts a thumb to the office door. Benson looks back at him.

"Wait, what about the rest of…"

"…We'll pick it up tomorrow." They carry on down and neither speak until they've both gotten off the last step. Benson turns to face him.

"I'll admit that I'm not an easy person to work with. But I want you to know that if I do or say anything that frustrates you or you don't understand, you can talk to me."

"…I know." A warmth goes through him as Benson slowly exhales.

Like this had been a weight he had been carrying for awhile.

"And just for the record…you are an easy person to work with. We just have different methods on how to do things."

Benson smiles as he opens the front door and Mordecai follows him out, "Maybe I'm too hard on myself sometimes."

 _You always are._


	6. Chapter 6

They both know there isn't any point to Mordecai explaining to Benson the requirements to being a groundskeeper since, well…the guy has _already_ been one years ago. So the two take the time to walk around the park.

They pass the other workers. Rigby is slacking off as per usual. He had been assigned to rake the leaves then clean the fountain; a trail of brightly coloured leaves takes them to a fast asleep raccoon, yellow sponge in one hand and a leaking hose in the other.

Benson smirks as he lightly nudges Mordecai who doesn't get the hint right away.

When he does, he cups his hands around his mouth and looks directly at his best friend.

"Rigby-!"

Hearing his name, he jerks awake and hits his head on the edge of the fountain.

Benson cracks up laughing as he watches the water spray everywhere. Mordecai bites his tongue when he feels himself about to dissolve into giggles. Rigby meanwhile, is staring at the two in absolute fury. Though he still feels a tad groggy.

"What the _heck_ , man!?"

Mordecai puts his hands up again, "Aren't you supposed to be _working_ , dude!?"

Feeling the sponge in his hand, and still being slightly out of it, Rigby makes the lame attempt to lob the sponge in the duos direction, but being the weight that it is, it only lands heavily a few inches away from the racoon. This has Benson fall against Mordecai in a heap of laughter.

Rigby ignores it as he throws his hands above his head, "Since when did you become the boss?"

"Uh, since a couple hours ago…? Or did you forget that I'm in Bensons body now?"

"So? Doesn't automatically make you in charge!"

"Actually it does!" Benson manages to get his breath back long enough to cut into the yelling match between them. "And good news, Rigby! I'll be working with you from now on!"

A loud groan is heard from all the way across the field, "Could this day get _any_ worse?"

Mordecai snorts, "Just for that attitude, and the fact that you didn't finish your chores, I'm giving you two laps around the entire park!"

"What!? What happened to just yelling in my face!?"

"That's gone, man! I'm the boss now so I make the rules!"

"You're actually enforcing punishment now!? What kind of boss are you!?"

"That's what a boss does!"

"Not the cool ones!"

Mordecai goes to shout something back, but Benson puts a hand on his arm. He shakes his head and Mordecai complies. They both silently watch Rigby kick a nearby bucket he had been using before he runs over to it to retrieve it, as well as the sponge he had thrown and the hose he had dropped.

As he walks off, Mordecai frowns, "Do you think I was too harsh?"

Benson walks a little ahead. He glances at Rigbys receding form, "Two laps might have been too many. Considering how the weather is starting to get warmer."

Mordecai looks away to match his pace, "It's just running. Rigby can do that. I mean, it will take him a long time, and he will be pretty tired afterwards, but…you know…he needs to learn his lesson."

"He won't." He smiles. "That's another thing; with your co-workers being your friends, it's hard to seperate your work from your emotions. Don't try to rationalise it. There's no point."

"Is that what you did?"

"Not at first. I knew I could rely on the people I worked with. But then you two came along and…well…I still didn't." He chuckles at the memories, "I guess as the years went on, and we started to get to know each-other…in a way, it got harder to punish you guys."

"Because we never listened to you?" Mordecai asks jokingly.

Benson grins, " _Rigby_ never listened to me. You tried to, but you would just follow him." He pauses and a flicker of something passes over his face.

Disappointment, almost.

Then it leaves as he continues, "Yelling never seemed to work. For awhile, I considered just letting you do what you want. But then that would have given Rigby free reign. And you would have suspected I was up to something."

"So I thought about giving you actual punishments; having you do more work wasn't having an affect either. You would still find some way to get out of it; Rigby would drag you away to get you both in more trouble."

Mordecai looks at him strangely.

The way he's speaking strikes him as what he himself had just done in the office.

Still, he stays quiet.

"But then what would they be…? I didn't want you to start thinking I had a personal agenda against you guys. I mean, I knew _you_ wouldn't, but Rigby would have…"

"Okay, okay. Wait a minute."

They both stop a few feet from one another. Benson frowns, "What's wrong?"

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Like what?"

"You keep separating me from Rigby."

Benson raises a brow, "Because you _are_ separate from him."

"I…" Mordecai pauses, "I know, but…we're a unit." At Bensons expression, an uncomfortable wave goes over him. He pushes it off, "We do everything together. I just….it makes me feel _weird_ when you talk as if…as if we _shouldn't_."

Benson runs a hand through his crown, "You're best friends. You're going to be joined at the hip a lot, I understand that." He rests his gaze on him and his voice raises slightly, "But what I _don't_ understand is why you continuously listen to him when he actively tries to avoid doing his job."

"…So this is about _work_?"

Benson pinches the bridge of his nose, "No, I…I just meant that…"

He sighs in exasperation then closes his mouth. Mordecai is watching him closely. The wave comes back when Benson looks right at him. His tone is lowered as he drops his hand to his side, "I see so much potential in both of you. But it seems to me like you understand it a lot more than Rigby does."

Something hot rises in Mordecai's throat. He quickly realises what Benson is getting at.

But he can't seem to counter him.

"Don't get me wrong; I know Rigby can achieve a lot more than he realises. The thing is…is that he doesn't _want_ to. He doesn't have that drive to do more. He needs to be forcefully pushed in the right direction."

"You, on the other hand, _don't_ need to be. You already know you can do better than this." He gestures to the park house in the distance, "So why don't you?"

Mordecai is quiet. They both already know the answer.

He slowly lifts his gaze to his boss, "…I can't do that to him."

Benson throws a hand out. His voice rises again, "He's holding you back, Mordecai."

Like that, they've arrived to the point. And Mordecai _loathes_ it.

"So what if he is? He's my best friend. I'm not leaving him alone here."

He stares at him, "You have the world at your feet. _Both_ of you do - "

"So why can't we both leave? Why does Rigby have to stay here? Just because you see more potential in me than you do him - "

"I never said that." Benson says hotly.

"Face it, Benson. You think Rigby is a hopeless case."

"Rigby can do anything he wants as long as he puts in the hard work. The same goes for you too-!"

Mordecai closes his eyes as he draws a breath in. His entire body is tense and he slowly lets himself exhale. Gradually, he starts to calm down and his eyes fly open. He didn't know he could get this angry, especially at Benson.

He slides a hand down his face but doesn't look at him yet. If he does, he might fire up again; he knows he needs to handle this with the utmost patience, "…Maybe you're right. Maybe Rigby _does_ stop me from going back to art school. And maybe I need to distance myself from his antics." He finally meets his eyes and puts a hand to his chest, "But Rigby has been my best friend since we were kids. I'm not leaving him."

Benson's voice is quiet, "…He's only going to drag you down."

Mordecai tenses. He feels his hands clench and for a moment, anger takes over him again. But it leaves as quickly as it had come as a new feeling creeps into his chest.

Sadness.

Because he knows Benson is right about that too.

"I just want what's best for you two. You know that." Mordecai looks at him. "It's not my place to say what you should or shouldn't do with your lives. That's up to you. But I can help you get to where you want to be. Whether that be doing something more here or even applying for a different job. I want you guys to succeed in whatever it is you want to do."

"In saying that; I also would like you to recognise that some things do need to change for you to reach that goal. Namely your feelings on you and Rigby staying together no matter the situation." He smiles softly, "Despite what you're thinking, you know somewhere that Rigby _can_ find his own way through life. He's just gotten so used to following you that he doesn't really know _how_ to go about doing things on his own. But he'll get there. It just takes time. And a little shove in the right direction."

Mordecai smirks. He doesn't think Benson has ever been this genuine with him before.

And it takes him slightly by surprise. He stares out at the sky as he answers him,

"You were right."

Benson looks at him.

"I shouldn't have given Rigby two laps."

His boss' laugh reverberates through him.

"I think you handled that situation as best as you could. Actually, better than me." He starts to walk down the path again. Mordecai matches his step.

"Really?"

"Mm. I probably would have just yelled at him."

"…But that didn't get you anywhere," he says knowingly.

Benson snorts as he glances down at his feet, "Maybe I should try your approach when we change back."

A strange silence hangs between them.

They both have the same question in their minds.

" _Are_ we going to change back…?

The smile falls from his boss' lips as he blinks harshly at the sun. As he's waiting for a response, a bird comes swooping down from a nearby tree to peck at a bread crust far ahead of them and Bensons eyes go to it.

He watches the bird until it flies off into the sky. When it is out of sight, he lets his gaze travel back to the remaining scattered crumbs. Something hard settles in his chest.

He finds it suddenly difficult to look his employees way.

"I don't know."


	7. Another AN (Please read this one)

I'm not discontinuing this. I'm putting it on a temporary hiatus.

A running theme I've begun to pick up on when it comes to my multichaptered fics is that I tend to overcomplicate the idea, and my first reaction when I can't find the inspiration is to delete them.

But...I don't want to do that for this one.

I want to get this AU finished eventually.

So hopefully it will be.


End file.
